Tulips
by horthbynorthwest
Summary: AU. 20 years after Freddy and Larry escape the heist we get a peak into their life together.


**Pairing: Orange/White**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Reservoir Dogs.**

Tulips

The evening was young and warm; lovely dashes of red, yellow and orange wrapped themselves around the bungalow and the sole figure relaxing on the small porch. Larry Dimick layback enjoying his carefully tended-to bed of tulips, which brought a welcome pallet of colour to the otherwise green and brown tinged garden; he stared into and beyond the flowerbed, a small smile playing across his face as he remembered some distant time when he was known as White and the unexpected, yet welcome splash of colour came in the form of a man called Orange.

It had been twenty long years since he and the kid had split after the heist had gone wrong. They split from Blonde, Pink, Brown, Blue – all of them. As soon as the bullets started flying, Freddy had grabbed him dragged him out of the back, bundled him into a car and had driven through the night without a single backward glance. On the road, the poor kid had broken down, telling Larry everything, how he was a cop forced into undercover, but how he'd fallen head over heels for him, how it had started like a slow burn the first time Larry had looked at him and by the first time they'd fucked it was already making love, and how, because of all that, he was willing to leave behind the only life he'd known in order to just exist with him. How could Larry ever deny this beautiful boy, with those heavy lidded green eyes, anything? And whilst his revelation of being a cop cut deep, it was nothing compared with the pain, pure need and heart breaking fragility hidden within those eyes, nor the sacrifice Freddy – his Freddy – had made to be with him.

That abandonment of their fellow thieves had marked a new, straight way of life for them both. And in the twenty years since, they had slipped into an easy rhythm: moving from small town to small town, keeping their heads down, not being noticed, taking menial, cash in hand jobs to tide them over and simply enjoying the unquestionable presence of the other. They'd been in this part of Florida for a little over a year and soon it would be time to move on, but as Larry had entered into his seventies the pair had started to slow down and they were now looking for somewhere to settle for good, somewhere to make their own.

Larry sighed, coming out of his reverie, he was waiting for his beautiful boy to come home. As much as Larry enjoyed tending his tulip garden and completing the crossword, when the day started to drag, all he could focus on was when Freddy would walk into the garden and melt his heart with that lopsided smile of his. Over the years Larry had watched Freddy grow from that uncertain, skinny youth into a solid, confident man and Larry was certain (rightly or wrongly) that his confidence and acceptance of who he was, was in no small part to the love Larry showed him throughout the years. And Larry was proud of the man Freddy had turned into and proud of the man that he, himself, had become and he could admit to himself (though never to Freddy) that Freddy was only the reason.

Larry recognised the noise of Freddy's car engine as the car pulled into the drive and he waited patiently for his lover as he made the way through the house, bags cluttering as dropped things off and changed. Rather than rising, Larry settled for shifting his head to watch Freddy through the kitchen window as he opened the fridge, pulling out two beers. From the way he clattered about, closed the door of the fridge with a touch more force than entirely necessary and scuffed his feet, it was obviously that Freddy was in a foul mood from work. He collapsed into the chair next to Larry, handing him a beer and scowled out at the garden, slouching down at an almost inhuman, and certainly uncomfortable, way. Larry just waited knowing that Freddy would virtually verbally vomit what had been gnawing at him all day and it would be much less painful if he didn't press him. Within seconds Freddy was away, all hands and rapid-fire words and big eyes begging for empathy. Larry struggled to keep his smile under wraps, it wouldn't be well greeted, but even after all this time and all his growth, Freddy was still that adorable kid he was when they'd first met when something rattled his self-confidence.

Whilst Freddy was in mid-sentence complaining about some bullshit customer he had to deal with, Larry got up and pulled Freddy out of his chair into an embrace and pressed their lips together. The look on Freddy's face – a mixture of pure joy, disbelief and annoyance – simply made Larry's grin wider and brought a deep chuckle from him.

"Ignore that shitty customer, kid. They don't know shit, you're super cool. Now let's go feast," another peck and Larry pulls away, heading towards the kitchen and leaving a slightly gobsmacked Freddy in his wake.

Following Larry inside, Freddy retorted "Watch who you're calling 'kid', old man. Remember who's buying your food!" this was greeted by another chuckle from Larry, 20 years in and Larry hadn't missed the glint in Freddy's eyes that screamed how much he still loved being called kid.

Freddy headed to the work surface, grabbing some potatoes and set to work peeling them, so engrossed in what he was doing, he didn't notice Larry approaching behind him until he pressed himself in Freddy's back. His hands sliding down Freddy's arms, stilling the knife there, Freddy shivered and pressed back against him. Larry simultaneously ground his hips into him and whispered, his voice deep and gravelly, in his ear "This isn't what I meant when I said let's feast… this can wait."


End file.
